Dragons
by That70sWriter
Summary: JK Rowling said Charlie never got married, because his one true love were the dragons. Charlie Weasley and his bitter recollection of his only dragon.


**A/N: What possessed me to write this? I have no idea. I was bored, and it always bothered me that Charlie Weasley was just written in randomly, and he was rarely talked about after that. My dear Mrs. Rowling said that he never got married because he loved dragons too much. I'm not sure if this has ever been done; I'm sure it has been. So sorry if you think this plot is stealing because I've never read anything like this... Anyways. Thanks for taking the time to read. **

Many said that Charlie Weasley never got married because his one love was the dragons. They were only half right. He stood in the corner of his brother Bill's twentieth anniversary party. It wasn't a happy occasion for him, it wasn't a time for celebration, and it surely wasn't a time where he felt love could be celebrated. It was a time to get drunk, and to try to forget the memories that came with that time of the year.

He regretted so many things, especially never introducing her to his mum and dad. He was sure that his mum would have loved her, and dad would have been proud that his rogue son had finally thought about settling down. A tap on his shoulder brought him back to the present, and he found himself staring at little twelve year old Rosie, who was wearing a blue party dress (ever since getting into Ravenclaw, her favorite color had been blue.) "Uncle Charlie, will you dance with me?" she questioned with a toothy smile, her bright brown eyes lighting up in anticipation.

Charlie smiled softly at her, and agreed, taking her hand. Like Ron, Bill, Percy, and his father had been, she was tall for her age. "Uncle Charlie," started the young girl hesitantly as they began to twirl and move slowly on the dance floor, "I heard grandma talking to my mum about how she wishes you would get married. I wish you would too, because if you got married, you could live in England with us." The dragon tamer knew that he was little Rosie's favorite uncle, and this was the highest honor that she could bestow upon him.

"I'm sorry Rosie, but I can't. As I'm sure you've heard, my one true love is a dragon," he began imperiously, with a fake snooty look on his face. Her face appeared crestfallen, then she looked up, her eyes narrowing, "Why can't you just get married though? All of the other Weasley's got married, even Neville got married, and mum told me plenty of stories about Neville when he was a teen- you know, until he got cool."

Now chuckling, Charlie shook his head, thinking back to the last time he danced with a red haired woman. It had been Valentine's day, the year before the final battle. They had been in that British pub that she had loved so much, and there was music playing. Muggle music always seemed better to him, especially after she taught him the wonders of it. Everything had seemed better to him, if she taught it to him.

She had been wearing that green dress of hers that made her eyes look even more vibrant, her bouncy curls had jumped up and down with even the simplest of movements. That was the night he had proposed to her, and she had said yes, so many times that the word yes didn't even seem like a word anymore. Her voice, with it's American accent and always excited tones, rang in his ears even twenty years later.

He finished dancing with Rose, and thankfully he retired to the corner of the large tent, the same one used for Bill and Fleur's wedding. He allowed his thoughts to go where they always went in times of silence, when he was alone. Back to her, and how gentle her hands would be, one of the three healers working on the reserve. Blue healer robes and gardenia scented perfume, velvet high heels, and hair that would be so springy that she didn't even have to do anything to it for it to be styled.

How he had cried into her shoulder during that horrible Christmas when he thought his dad was going to die, how she had insisted that she stay up all night with him, waiting for the news. All those times when horrible things had happened, if he had been with his family, he could have helped. He always swore he could have helped. His guilt would eat him up at night, and she would stay up with him, ensuring he didn't do something rash or stupid.

The way she would whisper, "I love you," in his ear before he would go off to take care of dragons, and she would go off to heal those who got burned or scarred. Two years, they had been together for two years. She had never met his family; she had always asked, "When can I meet them? Can I got to Christmas with you?" or even, "Can we go to Christmas at all?" Sure, they would visit her family, and they all adored Charlie, but it wasn't the same.

He hadn't known what he had been waiting for. A sign? They had been engaged for almost six months, and yet, he hadn't wanted to take her to meet his family. He was somewhat afraid of what they might say, he was afraid that they wouldn't like her. Which was crazy, because she seemed to be a mix of all of them, she was mischievous, yet driven, adventurous, yet she wanted nothing more than a big family.

Sometimes they talked about their future, considered building a house a bit away from the reserve for some privacy. They wanted it to be big and sprawling, with lots of land, they decided that they would call it 'The Den' as a homage to 'The Burrow.' She told him that she wanted at least five kids. He imagined that they would be the next Molly and Arthur of the family, filling up a house of half British, half American kids. They would listen to muggle music, and teach their kids how to ride dragons- well she didn't agree on that part.

She was always so angry when people would call her a mudblood. Her face, which was usually so pale, would light up a fiery red, and she would seem to crackle with electricity. Screaming, yelling, and hexing usually followed. Her family, muggles who lived in Oregon, only got to see her during the holidays, but she always felt so bad because she never spent enough time with them. That was where she and Charlie had differed. She loved her family- not that Charlie hadn't loved his family, he had just always been the black sheep.

Something that not many people knew, was that Charlie dropped out of Hogwarts, barely three weeks before his NEWTS, and he went to live at the reserve. His mum had been so ashamed, and his father barely spoke to him. "You had been so close!" his mum had screeched angrily. "You're throwing it all away to- to train dragons!?"

Rarely did Charlie ever come home after the berating he received. He didn't even feel missed. Bill they had talked about every day, talking about how much they missed him, but with Charlie, they never even wrote. Maybe an owl once every few months, but he guessed his mother was busy at home. He hoped that was her excuse. But his fiance, and her sadness at the semi-estrangement made him eager to spend a couple weeks of the summer with them. She had insisted he go alone, she wanted to spend the time packing their stuff up to move into a small cottage they could build onto eventually. She even cut his hair for him to look extra nice for his mum.

So he went to the wedding, the wedding that ruined his life. They came, and they ruined it, and Charlie had apparated back to the reserve, knowing that she had been in danger; they had known where he had worked. But had they known about her? When he arrived at the reserve, his heart had been in his throat. Hanging eerily over the land was the dark mark. He had screamed, running as fast as his feet could take him, tearing past his co workers, all who were running to see whose cottage was the unlucky one.

The door had been left open, and it was dark in the house. He hadn't cared if they were still in there, he wanted them to be in there, he wanted to kill them. His wand lit the room up, and there she was. All of her beauty on the floor, her long hair spread out on the floor, green eyes blank, lips parted in a silent scream. She had been tortured. Then all Charlie remembered was black.

In his darkness, he could recall how she had introduced herself. _"I'm Healer Withers,"_ she had smiled widely, healing his burned arm. "Yes, but do you have a real name? Not some fancy healer name, but a pretty bird like you should have a pretty name to match," he had answered. Her answering blush made his smile grow, as their flirty banter continued.

_"Fine, my name is Belinda; my 'oh so pretty name' means serpent, or dragon, my great grandma was named Belinda. She was from Germany, and she too was a muggle born witch. Maybe it was just my dad and grandma who were squibs."_ She had intrigued him, Belinda Withers, muggle born American girl, with her vibrant smile and bouncy curls. How she was a healer, and she listened only to muggle music, how she adored quidditch, but she was terrified of spiders, and butterflies; yes she was scared of butterflies. She preferred moths, she always said that their beauty was of a more subtle nature.

Then he had woken up in the healer's tent, and instead of Belinda taking care of him, it was a man, who had a sorrowful look in his dark eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Weasley, but your fiance is dead," the words had echoed in his ears and he felt empty. His heart had drained and his throat had constricted, but apparently there was more. "She was- she was tortured for a prolonged amount of time before the killing curse was used on her." The healer paused, his lips tightening.

"There's more." Charlie looked up, his face stricken. "More?" he croaked. What more could there be?

"She was pregnant."

That was when Charlie had lost it.

His eyes snapped open, seeing his mum in front of him, twenty years had done a lot to her. Lines of laughter, lines of grief, graying hair and glasses now on her face. "Hello Charlie," she greeted, standing next to him. He knew where this was going, she was going to try to set him up, and he would always say the same thing.

"You know, Hermione has a co-worker who I think would be perfect for you," she began, but Charlie interrupted her with a rare smile.

"Haven't you forgotten mum? I'll only ever love a dragon,"he gave his mum another smile, before going to find Rosie to tell her he had accepted the job as the new Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts.

As he walked away his mind went onto happier memories of Belinda. The girl whose name she said meant _dragon_, his one true love.


End file.
